Old Habits Die Hard
by winchesterlove94
Summary: "It didn't matter that Sam was a grown up and that he could very well take care of himself. Dean knew he would always see Sam as his kid brother who needed his big brother to watch out for him." Tag to 7x08. Slightly Hurt!Sam. Big Brother!Dean.


**Hey guys! **

**I've been kinda into writing tags to episodes lately, so here goes one for 7x08! I feel like Dean's expression at the end of the episode was just a huge opportunity for me to give you guys some big brother-ness/angsty-ness (if that's a word...), so here it goes! **

**Enjoy!**

**(P.S. I PROMISE 'We are Broken' will get updated soon. I was away on a mission trip for a few days, which further delayed me, but anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I have not given up on that story!)**

It feels just like old times.

The teasing banter, the harmless insults...Things almost seem back to normal.

"Yeah, whatever hippie." Dean mutters under his breath as he pushes off the trunk of the rusted piece of a crap car he was stuck with for the time being.

"You know what though, seriously? It might be nice." Sam speaks up suddenly as he follows Dean to the car.

"What?"

Sam pauses as he stops by the passenger side. "I mean, you been basically looking out for me your whole life...Now you finally get to take care of yourself." He quirks a smile before opening the car door. "About time, huh?"

"Yeah..." Dean replies simply with a nod and a smile of his own. "Right..." His voice trails off as Sam's door slams shut and he feels that smirk on his face slowly slide off.

_You finally get to take care of yourself._

Dean's eyebrows furrow as his brother's words cycle throughout his mind. Take care of himself? What the hell did that mean?

A dawning thought suddenly hits Dean.

It meant nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.

The truth was, he honestly didn't know _how_ to take care of himself. He had never bothered worrying about himself or making sure he was safe. He had always been 100% focused on watching out for Sam.

To him, there was no 'taking care of himself'. The only thing he knew how to do _was_ take care of his brother.

_"Keep an eye on your brother, Dean."_

_"Watch out for Sammy, Dean."_

_"Make sure Sam stays safe, Dean."_

The need to keep Sam safe from all the dangers of the world had been drilled into Dean's mind from the moment their mom was killed. Ever since he was four, his dad had raised him to protect his brother no matter what. That was the most important thing, no exceptions. And after a while, it became a part of Dean whether he liked it or not. He grew up knowing it was his job to keep Sam safe. That his brother was his only and most important responsibility.

And it wasn't like Dean didn't like watching out for Sam. It was who he was. And it was the one thing he knew he was good at, aside from hunting.

It didn't matter that Sam was a grown up and that he could very well take care of himself. Dean knew he would always see Sam as his kid brother who needed his big brother to watch out for him.

Dean realizes suddenly, that he never really did care about himself. It wasn't that he hated himself, because he didn't. He just didn't care. And strangely, he's okay with that.

When his deal had come due a couple years ago and he knew he was going to hell, it was Sam who he had been worried about. He hated the fact that Sam would be alone and unprotected, even if he knew he was the one going to the pit.

Back when John had been alive and the three Winchesters had been in that car crash, even though Dean had been the one in the coma, he was still afraid for Sam. He fought tooth and nail to stay alive, just so he wouldn't desert Sam in a world out to get him.

Throughout Dean's entire life, his world had been centered around Sam. It was as simple as that. He did nothing without thinking about how it would, if at all, affect Sam. He would never make any decisions until he knew his brother was safe and out of harm's way. It was just how things had been all his life.

And there was no changing that now.

Dean follows Sam into the car, slamming the door shut behind him. The car tilts slightly under his weight before adjusting, as Dean starts the ignition. He pushes back his haunting thoughts and tosses Sam a smirk before laughing under his breath.

"What?" Sam questions, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Dean responds with a little too much innocence.

Sam groans and rolls his eyes. "Dude, what?"

Dean coughs a laugh as he puts the car into drive. "Nothing, Mr. Rosen-Winchester."

"Oh, come on, Dean." Sam sighs, but can't help and smile.

"Seriously Sammy, if you wanna go back in there and make amends with your soul-mate, by all means, go."

Sam grins unwillingly and pushes his bangs out of his eyes. "Dude, I was under a spell, remember?"

"Uh-huh, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, pal." Dean taunts, slapping Sam lightly on the arm.

"Oh, shut up." Sam groans, getting as comfortable as possible in the passenger seat.

"You should get some sleep. I'll wake you when we get somewhere."

"Alright." Sam sighs, yawning in the process. It had been a long couple days for him. He tilts his head back on the seat, when a hiss escapes his lips. He reaches a hand back and feels a lump the size of an egg on the back of his head.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks instantly, shooting a worried glance at his brother. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm good." Sam lies quickly.

Dean scoffs once, before shaking his head. "Bull." He mutters, before reaching a hand behind Sam's head to see for himself. Sam winces involuntarily when Dean's hand presses against the tender spot on the back of his head. "The hell..."

"Dean..."

"Sam, what the hell is that?" Dean demands. "Did Becky do that to you?"

Sam stays silent and sighs, mumbling a 'yes' under his breath.

"Psycho bitch...I should have shot her when I had the chance."

"Oh, come on-"

"That crazy-ass mother will get what's coming to her, I swear." Dean growls, reaching into the backseat and fumbling around.

"It's just a bump."

"Yeah, the size of friggin' Texas!"

"Same difference." Sam says with a shrug.

Dean pauses his search and glances at Sam. "How the hell did she do that anyway?"

"She, uh, used the waffle iron you gave us for our wedding gift..."

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head before continuing to search the backseat. "Here." He says, handing Sam the cold icepack they kept in their cooler.

"Thanks." Sam sighs, holding it to the back of his head and leaning against the window.

Dean watches his brother a moment before shrugging off his jacket and nudging Sam's arm. "Take this." He orders gently, as Sam scrunches the jacket into a ball and shoves it against the window, sighing contently as he leans against it.

"Thanks, Dean." He whispers as he props the icepack on the back of his head so it's balanced.

Dean glances at Sam, watching as his breathing slowly evens out and a peaceful expression comes across his face. He smiles softly at how much younger his brother looks when he's asleep. He reaches his hand out and softly brushes the hair out of Sam's face before sighing and facing the road ahead, shooting glances every so often at his brother out of habit.

Asking Dean to not take care of his brother was like asking him not to breathe. It just wasn't possible. It went against every fiber of his being. It was his job as a big brother to keep Sam safe, and that was that.

Even when they were old men, assuming they even lived that long, Dean would always see Sam as his snot-nosed baby brother.

It was just who he was.

And nothing would ever change that.

**There you have it! Let me k****now what y'all thought!**

**Also, what did you guys think of Season Seven, Time for a Wedding!**

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
